


The snow is white and my fists will be red

by sircantus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: "I just want Technoblade to beat Dream into the ground after he finds out about Tommy", And so I bring this, BAMF Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), BAMF Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), But that's for Tommy, Dream gets fucking BEAT UP, Dream just gets the hurt, Gen, Get his ass, Hurt/Comfort, I see all the comment saying, Protective Technoblade, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Violence time, You can have Dream getting beat up, as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28148322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sircantus/pseuds/sircantus
Summary: “Listen to me, LISTEN.” Techno grabs the front of Dream’s shirt, yanking, and when Dream tries to kick away, grabbing a handful of snow in his hand, Techno swings, punching Dream hard across the face. He can feel the mask crack under his fist, and he does not care, even as it crumbles off Dream’s face, falling to the ground. “Get this through your head-”Dream coughs, gasping for air, trying to back away, hitting his hands against Techno’s arms. “Wait, wait, Techno, think about this-” Techno slams a fist across his face again. Blood hits the snow.---In which Techno has slowly but surely been developing a grudge against Dream, with Wilbur getting pushed to insanity and death (Dream had only pushed him farther), with Phil’s wings getting clipped to comply with his rules (Those were his wings, Dream had no Right-), with the way he’s always after power, always after control (Always meddling, always switching where it’ll benefit the most).It boils over when he finds Tommy hiding away under his house, dirty, cold, and broken.At that point, Dream is just fucked.(Watch Dream get fucking beat UPPPP)
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 296
Kudos: 2800





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *claps hands together* Dream gets beat upppp
> 
> This fic is inspired from mioxart's drawing of Techno beating the crap outta Dream!!!
> 
> Check her out on insta @mioxart, or on Twitter @ItsMiox_ 
> 
> Her art is so cool :D give her love, her drawing is the reason this fic exists

Dream, overall, isn’t someone who Technoblade would call an ally. There’s moments where Techno doesn’t trust him, where Techno feels like Dream holds only trouble in his path. 

Sometimes he’s useful. Sometimes, having someone to fight side by side with, absolute chaos, it’s fun. 

But then Techno sees Wilbur’s ghost, running around, happy as ever, a strange parody of how his twin used to be, before everything happened. Seeing him is nice, but it hurts to know that he’s like this because of a bitter end to insanity. 

While Techno has Wilbur, he doesn’t really, because he’s lost  _ that _ part of Wilbur when he fell into paranoia. He lost that Wilbur when he rigged l’manburg, when he became set on his plan, when he became convinced he was the traitor of it all. 

(And Dream had only pushed that. He told Wilbur he was the traitor, he only hurt Wilbur  _ more- _ )

Having Wilbur like this is bittersweet, and Techno makes a mental note to keep Dream away from this Wilbur as much as he can. 

Then there’s the rare, fleeting moments where Techno catches glimpses of Phil’s wings, and the image of a jagged, cut line against the feathers gets stuck in his head. 

Phil never flies anymore. That’s because of Dream’s rules. 

Phil couldn’t fly even if he tried, even if he flapped his wings, pushed against gravity, he can’t, because his flight feathers are snipped. And they’re never allowed to grow back. 

(Dream always stays up to date on that, and Techno  _ knows _ each time when Dream recuts them, when Phil visits Techno with a sense of sadness in his eyes-)

With that, and with Dream always seeming to create conflict, Techno can’t trust him. He finds himself looking at Dream, and is only marginally surprised when the voices start at the sight of that smiley mask, when they chant for blood and they chant for a fight, for revenge, because Dream is the cause of some of Techno’s aching in his chest.

But it’s not Techno’s problem. Dream stays away these days. Techno stays in retirement. 

Wilbur doesn’t talk with Dream much. He prefers Techno, and that’s good. 

Phil stays hidden too much for Dream to track him down now. His wings will grow back out one day, and he visits Techno with the feathers growing each time. It’s good.

The voices quiet down, and Techno lets the small twinge of anger for Dream leave. He allows himself into retirement, and chooses to just let it go.

Until. 

Until, he sees Tommy. 

He can’t quiet the voices then. 

\---

He finds the room underneath. Small amounts of stolen items, fingerprints in dust, evidence of someone in his house, Techno notices it a day in. 

At first, he’s not sure he even wants to investigate, hoping whoever it is, they’ll just leave. But it goes on, and Techno sighs, knowing he’s going to have to deal with it. 

He’s in retirement. He deserves some rest, goddammit.

He finds the room, climbs down the ladder, and lights a torch.

Tommy sleeps, curled up in a bed, in a room that’s under his basement. 

Techno won’t lie, he feels a bit of warmth and relief at seeing Tommy there, safe, and looking a bit cleaner. Maybe it was at the expense of some of his supplies getting stolen, but it’s a decent trade, some golden apples getting swiped in exchange for his little brother being close by again. 

“Look who we have here.” Techno murmurs, placing the torch to the wall, watching as Tommy stirs at the sound of his voice, opening his eyes slowly to Techno. 

He looks so small, tired and worn out, and Techno almost feels bad for waking the teen up, but really, he needs to have a talk with him. 

And as he crosses his arms, and Tommy really wakes up, Techno realizes something is terribly wrong. 

Because Tommy sits up with a jolt, wide eyes in surprise, which is expected, but there’s also  _ fear _ . 

It’s obvious, and it’s out of character, because Tommy can be intimidated by Techno sometimes, maybe, annoyed by him, bored with him, angry-

But  _ never _ is he scared. Techno, in all his life, has never seen Tommy look at him with such eyes, eyes that scream that he’s terrified, and eyes that plead for Techno to not hurt him. 

And it’s so terribly wrong. 

Tommy rambles, he gets to his feet, his voice shaky as his words speed by, and Techno catches some of it, loses some of it, and when he takes a step towards Tommy, Tommy takes a step back. Scared.

_ Dream. Dream, he did this, he made him like this, we need blood, blood in return, blood as payment, this can’t pass- _

Techno’s head gets louder and louder as Tommy gets quieter, mumbling his sentences, hands shaking as Techno looks down to him. 

Tommy tries to make a run for it, halfway through his words, and Techno easily grabs him, taking him off his feet, holding onto Tommy. 

Tommy  _ screams _ , and Techno sits down on the bed, staying still, holding Tommy, and not making a move to show that he’ll do anything. 

Eventually, Tommy calms down. Eventually, Tommy hugs back, and he’s still too scared, and it’s not like him at all. 

Techno reassures him, speaking softly even as his head yells, and Tommy can’t bring his eyes to Techno’s face.

They talk.

Techno doesn’t get much out of the conversation, it’s mostly rambling, mostly reassuring, distraction topics. But he gets one sentence that tips everything over. 

“Please don’t give me back to Dream.” Tommy breaths out, as if he says it too strongly Techno will kick him out into the snow. “Please. I-I don’t know-”

“I won’t, Tommy.” Techno nods, and when Tommy looks at him again, with a sliver of trust in his eyes underneath the wariness, Techno knows he needs to find Dream. “You won’t have to see him again.”

Tommy nods to that, and Techno pulls him upstairs for a proper meal, and for a better room to sleep in. 

As soon as Tommy’s knocked out, warm, fed, and safe, Techno leaves a note that says he went to grab supplies real quick.

And he leaves the house without a sword, without a weapon, nothing but a quiet simmering anger and voices in his head demanding for blood. 

\---

He sends a message to Dream to meet him far off in the snow, in the middle of nowhere, in a forest that no one’s touched. 

Dream listens, and he’s there when Techno shows up, giving a wave when Techno walks from the trees. There’s a grin in his voice, and his mask feels like it’s mocking Techno.

Dream asks for the reason for meeting up, and Techno stops in his tracks in front of Dream, shoulders tight and stare unflinching. 

“Tommy.” Techno is able to get out, his voice quiet and strained, and he tries to push back the way his head screams, with their target right there. 

_ Now, now, get him, hit him, kill him now, blood for the blood god, now- _

“...Tommy?” Dream asks, tilting his head the slightest bit, his tone acting as if he’s innocent in all of this. “What about him?”

Techno takes a deep breath in, letting out in the cold air. “What did you do.”

Dream stays silent for a moment, pausing and thinking. Techno waits. He can wait. He’ll get the message across soon.

“We had a bit of an argument.” Dream shrugs, laughing a little in his words. “I know, his place must be a mess-”

Techno lunges, and Dream doesn’t expect it at all, the way Techno moves too quick, rage burning in his eyes, tackling Dream into the ground. The voices yell and insist, and they want blood, but Techno’s not here to take a life, he’s here to send a message across. Dream’s not worth the effort to kill.

Dream yells and tries to push himself up, and Techno slams him back down, digging a knee into his stomach and watching Dream curl up in pain, crying out.

“Listen to me,  _ LISTEN _ .” Techno grabs the front of Dream’s shirt, yanking, and when Dream tries to kick away, grabbing a handful of snow in his hand, Techno swings, punching Dream hard across the face. He can feel the mask crack under his fist, and he does not care, even as it crumbles off Dream’s face, falling to the ground.

“Get this through your  _ head- _ ”

Dream coughs, gasping for air, trying to back away, hitting his hands against Techno’s arms. “Wait, wait, Techno, think about this-” Techno slams a fist across his face again. Blood hits the snow. 

“I know what you fucking did, I SAW WHAT YOU DID!” Techno yells, Dream trying to swing back, and it’s pathetic, Techno moving his head out of the way without trying. “You know what I’m talking about, you  _ know _ what you’ve said to Tommy-”

Dream swings again, and it hits, hard, Techno’s head getting harshly turned from the punch, but he only grabs Dream from the side of the head and swings down again in response, once, twice, and a third time, before Dream gives up on hitting back entirely.

Techno’s gloves are getting dirty, and Dream tries to raise his arms to cover his head, yelling and kicking, Techno not letting go for a second. 

He slams a fist into Dream’s throat, and it shuts him up enough for Techno to grab him by the collar, yanking him so he’s hanging just a bit over the around, close to Techno’s face, close enough to see how absolutely pissed he feels.

Dream looks terrified, eyes wide, emotions out in the open without that mask. 

It’s not nearly enough.

“You keep meddling.” Techno says, voice low. “You keep hurting those I care about. It’s getting annoying, Dream. I’m reaching a point, here.”

“Techno, wait-” Dream chokes out, coughing as Techno goes on.

“I’m making myself clear. You will  _ not _ come near Tommy again.” 

Dream shakes his head, and Techno hears the voices only rile up even more at that, as Dream tries to get out a defence, an explanation. Nothing is going to help him, though. Techno is only going to take one answer.

“Tommy, I- we both-”

“You’re not allowed to  _ ever _ see him again! You can’t talk with him, you can’t visit him, if you dare touch a hair on his  _ head _ , I’ll fucking cut off yours!” 

“I don’t- I’m-” Techno pauses, breathing heavy, letting Dream try and scrape together a defence. “Whatever you’re thinking, whatever Tommy’s said- it’s not that bad, really- this isn’t-”

Techno snarls, and swings a fist down, Dream gasping and trying to cover his face again. 

“First Wilbur, then  _ Phil- _ Tommy is the last straw! Tommy is the LAST ONE!” Techno yells, slamming Dream into the snow again, hitting relentlessly, Dream just trying to cover his face as Techno’s grip on his shirt is unbreakable, and his swings are nonstop.

“YOU WILL  _ NEVER _ HURT THEM AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR ME?!” Techno screams, and his head screams with him, because there’s blood on the snow, and Dream nods frantically with crimson smeared across his face, his shirt, Techno’s knuckles-

“ _ NEVER _ COME NEAR ME OR MY FAMILY AGAIN!” 

Techno keeps swinging with all his might, with everything he has in him, and Dream just lays there after a while, just trying to lessen the blows as much as he can.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, screaming and getting the point across. 

But when he’s done, when he stands on his feet, exhausted and panting, blood on his gloves, Dream’s curled up on the floor in pain, his hands trembling, the voices in his head are more quiet.

He doesn’t feel completely satisfied, but it’s enough, by the look on Dream’s bloodied face. 

“Do you understand.” Techno says, flexing his fingers at his sides, feeling the ache in them. 

“I understand.” Dream rasps out, pressing his face into the snow, trying to hide away. “I understand.”

Techno walks away then, boots crunching in the snow, feeling calmer.

Well then.

Now to Tommy. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its 2 am on Christmas day and I'm writing about minecraft family dynamics, oh we love to see it
> 
> happy chrimas

It's been two months. 

Two months since Techno found Tommy underneath his house, two months since he's given him new clothes, proper food, two months since he's held Tommy close and reassured him that he can stay.

Two months since he beat Dream into the ground. 

Over the course of said two months, Techno has been enjoying retirement. With Tommy. 

It’s peaceful. Well, as peaceful as it can get with Tommy around.

\---

Tommy wakes up slowly, blinking his eyes up at the ceiling, processing the light coming through the nearby window, and feeling the slight chill of the room trying to get under his blankets. 

“Tommy!” He hears, and now he knows what woke him up, Techno yelling from downstairs, voice light-hearted. “Stop sleeping in, you said you were going to be working with the bees today!” 

Instead of getting up, Tommy groans, rolling over and putting his face into the pillow, trying to block out the light of early morning. He’s usually allowed to sleep in, Techno always teasing for the fact Tommy’s bleary eyed and drowsy in the middle of the afternoon. But sometimes, Techno makes sure he doesn’t sleep the day away and drags Tommy out of bed, no matter how much the teen demands for ten more minutes.

He’s gotten better with it, Techno’s made sure they’ve had the routine down. If he calls, and a few minutes later Tommy’s not up, Techno will sit in the hallway outside of Tommy’s room and ring a bell until he’s out of bed. 

It was kinda funny the first time. The seventh time Tommy considered throwing that damn bell into the fireplace.

He feels himself drift off again into his pillow, and he thinks that maybe just a minute, just one more minute wouldn’t hurt.

“Tommy!” Techno yells, again, Tommy jolting up. 

“I’m up! I’m up!” 

“Okayyy.” He hears Techno drawl, and there’s footsteps going down the stairs, oh thank god. Tommy does  _ not _ need the bell right now.

Sighing loudly and rolling onto his back, Tommy looks at the ceiling of his room again, frowning. 

Two months. From the days he’s been counting, been keeping track off, Techno has been letting him stay here for two whole months. 

And, honestly, it’s nice. It’s really nice. 

Reaching a hand under his pillow, his fingers grasp at a small piece of metal, and he pulls the glowing compass out, sitting up in his bed as he turns it over in his hands. 

‘Your Tubbo’ it says, engraved into the metal lid. Tommy opens it up and smiles at the arrow pointing the way it always points when he wakes up, towards Tubbo, towards l’manburg. He turns it right and left, and the arrow stays true, keeping it’s direction. 

Part of him wants to follow it. Part of him wants to hold it close and never let go. Part of him wants to burn it. 

He just closes it quietly instead, sighing. Maybe one day he can follow it. Maybe some other day. But right now, Tommy wants to keep what he has. 

Putting the compass back under his pillow, Tommy swings his feet off the bed, stretching his arms up and yawning. 

Right now, he has Techno. He has this house, this home. It’s safe, it’s calm, and while part of Tommy wants to take action, make a change, he knows he can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t think he could do it, really. But maybe someday. 

Getting off the bed, Tommy tugs at the blankets behind him, making it so it looks somewhat neat. He goes over to his closet, opening it up, grabbing a shirt and swapping it for the wrinkled one he has on. 

Buttoning it up and rolling his sleeves, he debates putting his shoes and getting his usual layers on for outside, but decides that he can eat first, then go get ready for some chores. 

Running a hand through his hair, he goes out his door, closing it quietly behind him, outside into the warm hallway, and going down the stairs at the end. 

He makes his way downstairs, and into the kitchen, where Techno is standing by the table, fully dressed up with a thick cape over his shoulders, holding a paper in his hands, focused on whatever it holds. 

Tommy goes to yell out a good morning, but the wooden floor under Tommy’s socks is wet, and Tommy makes a surprised noise, jumping over the slight bits of snow scattered across the kitchen. 

“Oh, come on, you tracked snow inside!” Tommy complains, Techno raising his head from the paper in his hand as Tommy hops his way over to the table, pulling back a chair and pulling his legs up as he sits down, eyes glaring at the floor.

“Whoops. Morning.” Techno grins, looking down at where Tommy’s glaring at, seeing bits of melted snow that he must’ve brought with him on his boots. 

“G’morning.” Tommy mumbles out, raising his eyes to Techno with a ticked off face, which turns into excited curiosity as he sees the paper in Techno’s hands. “What’s that?”

Techno smiles, and he holds it out, Tommy almost throwing himself over the table with how quickly he reaches for it, climbing onto the wooden table and crossing his legs, holding the paper up to his face. 

“New letter from Phil.” Techno says, leaning in with Tommy to look over the paper again. 

It’s another update, on how they’re doing, how’s the progress, and Tommy quickly skims it, once, twice, trying to catch a word on when they might  _ finally _ be making their way over here. 

_ Hey, boys. _

_ Everything has been good so far, still quiet, and Fundy still hasn’t spoken a word to l’manburg of our location. He still visits, and while I know he won’t be coming along when we finally get home, I still think you should reconsider letting him visit. He’s been bringing cute little gift baskets.  _

Tommy sticks his tongue out at that, not wanting anyone more to come with Phil. Both him and Techno had been worried when Phil told them he had actually let Fundy come over to where he was hiding, but so far, it seems like Fundy has no bad intentions, and Tommy hopes it’ll stay that way. 

_ Wilbur is doing good these days, he’s a bit confused at moments, and he still gets tired pretty easily, but he’s walking well, and he says he misses you guys. He’s picked up his guitar again, and I convinced him to start a journal. I think his memories are slow-going, but they’re there. It’s hard, and he doesn’t like to remember the hard bits, but he’s coping with it, and really, it’s all we can ask.  _

_ I don’t want to push him too far, but I’m thinking another few weeks or so until he’s good enough to travel, then we’ll both be on our way. It could be more, or less, I’m not sure, I’ll have to see his progress, but he’s getting stronger day by day, and he’s really trying on being able to walk around without any help. Don’t worry, I won’t let him overwork himself. _

_ As for me, it’s been pretty boring. I’ve been keeping myself busy with the flowers around here and Wilbur. Fundy keeps good company, but he doesn’t stay too long. He really doesn’t want anyone to suspect where he’s going. My wings are just about fully grown out now, you can hardly tell they were ever snipped. (Fuck dream, by the way.) _

_ I’m glad you’re both doing good, even with it being so cold over there. Stay warm, although I’m sure you’re already used to it by now, I know that when we get there, I’m not going to enjoy the chill for a while.  _

_ Wilbur says hello. He says he’s looking forward to getting home, and he’ll try his best to get better. He says, to Techno, keep an eye on Tommy for him.  _

_ Please do for that last one, even with how nice it sounds over there, I know Tommy’s probably giving you a headache, Techno. Hang in there, mate, we’ll be there eventually.  _

“I am not  _ that _ bad.” Tommy scoffs, Techno snorting. He finishes reading the letter.

_ Stay safe, both of you. I miss you both, and I can’t wait until I can come see you, with Wilbur in tow.  _

_ Love you both, Phil. _

Tommy smooths out the folded line on the paper in his hands as Techno leans back, sighing fondly. “Well, looks like Phil is doing well.”

“A few weeks until they can get here? How much is a few weeks?! Two? Three?” Tommy asks, raising his head from the paper, looking at Techno. Techno shrugs. “Ugh, I wish they could just come home already.”

“Recovery takes time.” Techno shrugs again, voice calm and quiet. “If you really want to, we can start preparing around the house so we can leave and go visit.” 

“No, no, it won’t be much longer anyway.” Tommy shakes his head, putting the paper down on the table, beside his knee. “We can wait.”

Techno looks over Tommy, making a face as Tommy squints back with a frown. “I thought you were going to work with the bees this morning?”

“I was-!” Tommy yells, throwing his hands up. 

“And yet you still looked like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Well, I did roll out of bed,  _ excuse _ you, and also I was going to eat some food first-” 

Techno waves a hand, walking across the kitchen, turning his back to Tommy. “Uh-huh, go get dressed, I’ll warm up some food.”

“I can eat breakfast,  _ then _ I can-”

“What’s that? You’re going to go upstairs and get properly dressed so you can work with the bees like you  _ said _ you would? Wow, thanks, Tommy.”

“Ha, ha, fuck you.” Tommy swings his legs off the table, jumping off and going upstairs begrudgingly, hearing Techno snort as he goes. 

He goes to his room and pulls on his usual layers, dressed up warmly in shades of blue in under five minutes, coming back down the stairs with a sigh. 

“Where’s my cape?!” Tommy calls out, leaning over the railings. 

“By the fireplace!” Techno yells back, and Tommy looks over to said fireplace, the blue cloth indeed hanging there. 

He smiles, and jumps down the rest of the stairs to go grab it. 

\----

After a quick breakfast, and talking with Techno over writing a letter back to Phil, Tommy’s tugging his gloves on as he goes out the front door, going down the snow covered stairs as Techno clicks the door shut behind him. 

“You know what you’re supposed to be doing, right?” Techno asks, walking down the stairs after Tommy. 

“Collecting honey, tending to the bees, yes, yes, I know.” Tommy rolls his eyes, turning to Techno for a moment as he walks down, then turning around and having Techno follow as they walk around the side of the house. 

“Eh, just making sure.” 

“I know what I’m doing.” Tommy scoffs, Techno humming. “I’m an expert, bitch.”

“Suuure.”

Techno reaches a hand up behind Tommy's head, tugging lightly at the small ponytail tied up right above the base of Tommy's neck. 

"Your hair is getting long." Techno says, Tommy waving a hand behind him to swat at Techno’s hand, making an annoyed sound. "You sure you don't wanna cut it?"

"It makes me look cool." Tommy grins, turning back around to Techno. "You have longer hair anyway.”

“I make it look cool.” Techno says, running a hand through the ponytail that hangs loosely behind him. 

“You look like a fucking nerd-” Tommy cuts himself off with a yell as his own small ponytail gets yanked at. “Rude!”

Techno just laughs, Tommy laughing along, even though he’s trying to act pissed off. 

So then they start the morning off, Tommy working with the bees and Techno walking off into the forest with an axe on his shoulder, off to get some extra wood. He’s been planning on modifying the house a bit, for when Wilbur and Phil get here. Tommy’s looking forward to them getting here, although he’s not looking forward to the work Techno’s probably going to have him do for the house. 

So he stands outside in the snow, some of the bees flying loose out in the cold, but still staying close, since the flowers inside are the only ones around for so far.

There’s a bee that flies around Tommy’s head, and he grins, pulling his glove off his hand and holding up a finger. It hovers around for a moment longer before landing on his hand, Tommy only feeling warm and thinking of Tubbo as he stares at the little guy, antennas wildly moving around. Tubbo would think it’s cute. 

There’s the crunch of snow coming up behind him, and Tommy watches the bee fly off with a pleased hum.

“Hey, Techno, do you think-” Tommy starts to ask, turning around to what he thought was Techno coming back to check on him.

The bottle in Tommy’s hand slips out of his grip, and it falls into the snow, along with Tommy’s glove. He can feel his hand chilling out in the open, but he doesn’t make a move to pick the glove up, frozen in place as he stares ahead of him. 

He stares at a smiley face mask that stares right back, sending a chill down Tommy’s spine that has nothing to do with the temperature. 

“....Dream.” Tommy breathes out, taking a small step back, Dream tilting his head. 

He looks a bit worn, from where he’s standing in front of Tommy, a rip at the end of his hoodie, the bottom of his mask slightly cracked. But there’s a sword resting at his hip, and Tommy promptly stops thinking about Dream’s current state and instead starts considering how far he could get if he starts sprinting and screaming. 

“Hey, Toms.” Dream says, and Tommy’s heart completely drops as he hears that, because he says it like they’re good friends, like Dream has just been invited over, just for a nice night to hang out. 

He wasn’t. Tommy knows Dream shouldn’t know where they are. Techno had promised,  _ swore _ , over and over again that he would never give him up to Dream. That he would never have to see the green bastard ever again. He pinky promised. Techno would never give him up. 

Dream takes another step forward, and Tommy takes a sharp breath in, eyes wide as he takes several steps back. 

“Ah, ah, nope, don’t you dare come any closer! You can’t get close to me.” Tommy holds his hands out, laughing a little, trying to ignore the way his hands shake and how much his head is yelling to run, run to Techno, I need to get out of here-

Dream moves his mask up, showing his mouth in a rare moment of vulnerability, and Tommy remembers Dream telling him about it, he remembers, on a late night, while Tommy was still with his tent, still on his island. He only ever pulls up his mask for people he trusts, he said. We’re friends, I trust you, he said. 

Tommy had felt so happy that night, feeling like he got an achievement, like he finally did something good. 

But now, with the sight of Dream giving an easy grin to him, Tommy doesn’t feel reassured, he just feels  _ scared _ . 

“Come on, Tommy. I can’t just talk to you?” 

“I don’t want to talk with you!” Tommy crosses his arms, raising his chin and ignoring how his heart is racing in his chest. “I don’t want anything to do with you, and if you don’t leave me alone, you’re going to regret it!”

Techno, he just has to get to Techno. Once Tommy gets Techno’s attention, once he can get to safety, then it’ll all be okay. He can do this. He needs to stall. 

“Really?” Dream says, and he sounds almost hurt, and Tommy hates the way his heart stings at it, at the way he feels like he’s betrayed someone. “Tommy, we’re friends. I hate for us to just break apart on an argument, honestly, I just want to-”

“If you take another step forward-!” Tommy cuts him off, as Dream takes a step closer, and Tommy takes a step back. “Then I’m gonna, I’ll, I’ll-” He stumbles to think of a good threat, stammering as Dream seems to ignore his attempt at scaring him and instead just keeps walking closer, Tommy continuing to try and keep distance. 

“Okay, Tommy. Enough.”

“I mean it-!” Tommy gets out, looking behind him, not wanting to literally get backed into the wall, because it’ll leave him less space to run if he really has to. “I’ll, I’ll-”

“Tommy. Seriously, stop it.  _ Why _ are you being so dramatic.” 

Tommy bares his teeth in the meanest scowl he can muster, glaring at Dream with a burning threat in his eyes. He can fight if he has to. He can. He can do this. 

“If- If you keep bothering me, I’m going to get my older brother, and, and  _ oh _ , he’s not going to be happy with you,” Tommy says, nodding his head, trying to be cocky. “He’ll wipe the  _ floor _ with you, I mean it, if you don’t leave me alone.” 

Dream pauses, seeming to consider Tommy’s words, his smile going sour for a bit. Tommy’s not sure what to name the expression on Dream’s face, but he looks… hesitant.

“Big brother.” Dream repeats, and he stands in place, finally, no longer trying to come closer. He scoffs, and his smile is almost mocking, his words stabbing Tommy right in the heart. “Who, Wilbur? I know he is, oh, sorry,  _ was _ like a brother to you. I doubt he’ll do much.” 

Tommy takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. That comment fucking hurts, but Tommy tells himself Wilbur’s okay. Wilbur’s in hiding, in a safe secure house with Phil, healing. Wilbur’s alive, and Dream is none the wiser. Dream is just a fucking bitch. 

“Don’t.” Tommy says, trying to make the word sound exactly how pissed off he feels. He hates that his voice still shakes either way. He hates that his hands shake too. 

“I’m not really that scared of Wilbur, Tommy.” Dream smiles, putting his hands in his pockets. “He’s not that good at protecting you, anyway, I mean, all throughout your exile-”

“Not. Wilbur.” Tommy grits out, and he sees Dream’s head turn to the house for the slightest moment, looking at the bees, the smoke coming from the chimney, at the warm, inviting home Tommy’s been living in. 

No wonder Dream thinks  _ Wilbur _ is the one Tommy’s with. Wilbur disappeared from l’manburg around when Tommy ran. And the cozy little home really doesn’t yell ‘home of the blood god’.

“Leave me alone, or I will fucking call Technoblade over, and he will fucking  _ drag _ you through the ground.” Tommy says slowly, his hands clenched in tight fists. 

Dream goes dead still. Tommy’s shoulders relax. 

“I’m not scared of Techno, Tommy.” Dream says, but he doesn’t sound entirely convinced. Tommy gives a shaky smile. 

“You should be.” Techno says, from right behind Dream. “What did I say, last time, Dream?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAD to make this into a three chapter story, because while that's a killer cliffhanger, and I really wanna keep writing, ITS FUCKING CHRISTMAS AND IT'S TWO AM 
> 
> I have to be at a family breakfast in the morning. 
> 
> I am making poor life decisions. 
> 
> No regrets, happy cold season


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, I have no idea what I'm doing but I think I did it pretty okay, so, y'know
> 
> enjoy

  
  


Dream hesitates, and for a split second, for a single, glorious, satisfying second, Tommy can see  _ fear _ on his face. 

He immediately reaches for his sword, pulling it out as he turns around, and Techno just swings, slamming a fist across Dream’s face. There’s the sound of a crack, and Dream stumbles back, holding a hand to his face, trying to keep his mask together. 

Tommy chokes out a laugh of shock, holding his hand without a glove to his chest, trying to keep his cold fingers warm as he watches with wide eyes, Techno giving an almost bored expression to Dream. He looks bored, but his eyes  _ burn _ and while there’s a perfectly usable axe resting on his back, he doesn’t reach for it and instead takes a step forward to Dream, who takes several steps back, gasping. 

“What did we agree on, last time, Dream?” Techno asks, and Dream takes his shaking hand away from his face, Tommy speechless as he watches the mask fall off, pieces falling to the snow. 

Techno broke Dream’s  _ mask _ . With a single punch. Might’ve broken his nose too, from the blood that’s coming from Dream’s face. 

Dream blinks tears of pain out of his eyes, shaking his head and raising his sword. “Come on, Techno-”

“Did you not understand what I told you?” Techno says, and Dream keeps his stance, Techno taking a slow step forward. “Do I need to say it again?”

Tommy lets a sharp breath out into the cold air, eyes flicking between the two of them, heart pounding. He’s not entirely sure what Techno is talking about, but either way, it’s getting a reaction from Dream, and Tommy’s fairly sure that Techno has the upper hand here. 

Dream narrows his eyes at Techno, breathing in slowly. “I understood.” He says, bitterly.

“Then?” Techno tilts his head to the side, glancing to Tommy, who gives a shaky grin back. 

“I don’t care. I’ll just take you out of my way.” Dream responds, then he runs forward, swinging his sword down. 

Techno steps to the side, dodging the sword just barely, sending a kick into Dream’s side, and letting him fall into the snow, Dream rolling back onto his feet within seconds. 

He tries jabbing the sword at Techno again, and Techno just takes a large step back, just barely dodging, again, and again, Dream gritting his teeth as Technoblade just keeps stepping barely out of range. 

Dream tries swinging the sword for Techno’s neck, and Techno drops to the ground, kicking out Dream’s legs from underneath him, Dream falling onto his shoulder and rolling out of the way as Techno stomps a boot down, right where his face was a second before. 

Pushing himself onto his knees, Dream jumps up again and lunges with a yell, angry and fed up. 

Techno’s angry too. He’s beyond angry, his voices are  _ pissed _ . His head yells for blood, and for death, and Techno will have it, he will. 

But not in front of Tommy. Tommy, who’s still standing to the side, eyes wide, frozen as he watches the two of them try and hurt the other. As much as Techno wishes he could, he’s not about to brutally murder Dream right in front of the teen. The kid doesn’t need  _ more _ trauma. 

So Techno takes another step back, the sword just barely missing his face, and he reaches forward, grabbing Dream by the wrist and slamming a fist down onto his arm. 

Dream chokes out a swear in pain as he lets go of the sword, Techno keeping one hand holding Dream’s wrist, and the other catches the sword before it hits the ground. 

He yanks at Dream’s arm, and Dream stumbles forward, trying for a punch towards Techno as he pulls his arm back. Techno gets hit hard across the face, which hurts like hell, but he also kicks in the back of Dream’s leg, Dream falling to the ground once again. 

Techno takes a few steps back, holding the sword out in his hand in front of him, Dream rolling over on the ground and scooting back, staring up at Techno as he gasps for air, realizing that Techno’s stolen his weapon, and he has no defence. 

“Tommy.” Techno says, not taking his eyes off Dream, the voices in his nearly  _ hissing _ when Dream turns his eyes to Tommy, behind Techno. “Get inside the house.”

“W-what?” Tommy stammers out, and Dream’s eyes go wide.

“Go inside. Stay inside, until I’m done.” Techno says quietly, calmly, anger restrained. He could chop Dream’s head off, right now. Dream’s too frozen in fear to get to his feet again, arms shaking as he looks back to Techno, staring at him in disbelief. 

Tommy doesn’t let himself look at Dream, instead keeping his eyes on the back of Techno’s head, taking in a shuddering breath. 

“Techno, no, I-I don’t-” He shakes his head, trying to get his words out, trying to work past the way his heart is racing-

“Tommy.” Techno repeats, Tommy gritting his teeth. 

“No-!” Tommy yells, stubborn, unmoving, and Techno doesn’t get why now, of all times, Tommy is going to be stubborn about this. “I’m not going to just-”

“ _ Tommy _ .” Techno hisses out, and he turns to Tommy, still holding the sword out towards Dream, still burning with anger, but it all pauses for a moment when he actually sees Tommy’s face. 

His voices actually simmer down, _ wait, hold on, wait, _ they whisper, and Techno takes in the way Tommy has his chin raised, shoulders set, looking ready to fight even with the tears at the edges of his eyes. 

Closure, Techno thinks. He needs to have some sort of closure. Some sort of reassurance. 

Tommy wants to  _ fight _ . He wants to get back at Dream, and it makes sense, Techno understands.

Techno thinks of all the nights Tommy’s woken up screaming for Dream, either for Dream to help or for him to stop. Then only minutes later, he’s cussing out Dream under his breath as he’s wide awake in Techno’s arms, shaking with both anger and fear. 

He thinks of the times where Tommy’s broken something, messed something up around Techno, and immediately panicked, went up on the defensive, glaring to Techno with eyes almost challenging him to try something. Techno was never mad about it, but Tommy always reacted as if he was ready for Techno to snap, to hurt.

It’s gotten better, these days. Sometimes Techno still has to sit by Tommy throughout the night, so Tommy has someone by his side when the nightmares eventually come. Sometimes Tommy will try hiding away by doing chores, tense and hostile, only for Techno to find that Tommy’s broken a plate and hid the pieces, and Techno needs to reassure that he isn’t angry, he’s not upset, so that Tommy will calm.

Tommy’s gotten back more of his bravery ever since he’s showed up, and he’s able to stand his ground. 

And with the look he’s giving Techno, hands shaking by his side, eyes glassy, but face determined, Techno knows he’s going to stand his ground. 

“Tommy.” Techno says again, less sharp. “Come here.” 

Tommy goes from upset to surprised, and Techno holds out an arm, nodding. “Come here.”

Stumbling forward, Tommy glances to Dream for a split second before making his way over, eyes focused on Techno, wary. 

Techno gently pushes Tommy in front of him, reaching his arms around Tommy and lifting his hands up, putting the sword into Tommy’s hands instead. 

Tommy puts a foot back, going into a stance, hands tightening around the hilt as Techno points the sword in Tommy’s hands towards Dream. 

“Tommy…” Dream says, and he sounds betrayed, Tommy raising the sword in his hand with a set face. Techno points it back down. Tommy’s not going to fight. He’s not going to be doing anything to Dream, unless he really wants to, then Techno won’t stop him. But he needs the reassurance. “You have to listen to me-”

“Shut up.” Tommy cuts him off, hands trembling with the sword in his hands. Techno steadies his grip.

Dream’s face goes sour. “You’re really going to kill me, Tommy? After everything I’ve done for you? You’re going to just go along with him!? You think you’re just going to get away with that?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Tommy mutters out, trying for a shaky smile. 

Dream shakes his head. “You  _ can’t _ .” 

Tommy narrows his eyes, “What do you know?”

“I  _ know _ , that you can’t hurt me, Tommy. You can’t kill me. You know it, I know it. Stop playing around.” Dream says, voice sharp, an underlying threat under his words if Tommy doesn’t listen. But he isn’t that convincing, Tommy finds. He isn’t that intimidating when Techno has his back. 

Techno sends a glare towards Dream’s way, and it makes Dream turn his head away. He leans down next to Tommy’s shoulder.

“He’s scared.” Techno whispers, quietly enough for Dream to not make out his words. “He’s giving empty threats.” Tommy nods.

“Put the fucking sword down, Tommy.  _ Now _ .” Dream says, keeping his eyes turned to the snow. 

“He won’t ever hurt you again. Both you and I will make sure of that. You’re strong enough to win, and he knows it. He’s scared.” Techno says quietly. 

“I’m not.” Tommy murmurs. “I’m, I’m not scared. I could kill him.”

The voices in Techno head yell out at that, but it’s more of in concern, because they want blood, but not at the expense of Tommy. They want blood, but having Tommy’s hands do it isn’t what they want. It’s not what Techno wants, either. “Sure, you could. But you really don’t have to. You just need to let him know that he can’t hurt you anymore.”

Tommy stays quiet in thought, staring down Dream. 

“Dream.” Tommy starts, Dream looking up to him. “I want you to leave.”

Dream tilts his head, opening his mouth to say something, but Tommy doesn’t let him. 

“I want you to leave, and never come back. Don’t ever visit me again, don’t ever show your face around again! I’m not going with you, and I will  _ never _ go with you. I never want to see you ever again, and if you do come back,” Tommy pauses, leveling a glare down at Dream. “I will make you regret it.” 

Dream stares up at Tommy with an angry look in his eyes, but it simmers down as he realizes Tommy barely cares anymore, and his face turns helpless, panicked. 

“Tommy-” 

“You heard him.” Techno says, and he lets go of Tommy’s hands, letting Tommy hold the sword up on his own. Standing up straight and taking the axe off his back, finally, Techno leans back on his heels behind Tommy, holding the axe loosely in his hand, letting it rest on his shoulder. “It’s over, Dream. You don’t have any power here.”

Dream’s eyes go from Tommy, to Techno, back to Tommy, wide and scared. Tommy holds the sword up in front of him, looking hesitant but confident. Techno just looks relaxed, but Dream knows better, from the look in his eyes. 

“I-” Dream pushes himself up on his knees, and Tommy’s look doesn’t change. Techno raises his eyebrows. 

He has no power here. If he tries to do anything, it wouldn’t work. 

So his shoulders slump, and he drags a hand across his face, wiping off blood. 

“Fine.” Dream mutters. “ _ Fine _ , Tommy. But you-” 

Techno takes quick steps forward and slams the dull side of his axe against Dream’s head, knocking him out cold. He hits the snow. 

Tommy lowers the sword in his hand and lets out a startled laugh, scanning the snow and seeing the pieces of Dream’s mask scattered in the snow. “Holy shit.”

“So.” Techno starts casually, waving his axe at Dream. “Want me to kill him?”

The voices start up again, and they swirl around in Techno head,  _ blood for the blood god _ , over and over, they get louder and louder, excited-

“No.” Tommy says, sighing, and Techno is surprised at how the voices drop dead, silent. With just one word from Tommy, they listen, and Techno is almost annoyed at that, because it’s  _ his _ head, come on. “Can you just, just…” 

Tommy rubs at his face, over and over, and he takes a shuddering breath in, throwing the sword to the side to rub at his face with his other hand. “I dunno, just, make him go away. You don’t have to kill him…” Tommy says quietly, voice shaky as he cries, relief washing over his shoulders. 

Techno walks over to Tommy, reaching an arm out and pulling him close. Tommy wraps his arms around Techno, shoving his face into his shirt. 

“God, I can’t believe I just did that.” Tommy laughs, sniffling. 

“I can.” Techno says easily, and Tommy laughs again, but it’s more of a sob. “You did good, Tommy.” Techno murmurs, rubbing a hand at Tommy’s back, and Tommy nods.

They stand there for a few minutes, until Tommy calms down, and Techno lets go of him. Tommy picks up his stray glove from the ground, now covered in snow, and Techno grabs Dream by the leg, dragging him across the ground. 

“Where are you going to take him?” Tommy asks, looking at Dream’s bloody, unconscious face as Techno shrugs. 

“I’m gonna go find a river far off. Throw him in. After that, not my problem.” 

Tommy snorts, and he shakes his head, turning around. “Okay. I’ll, uh, go make some food, then?”

“Sure. Don’t burn the house down.” Techno responds, Tommy waving a hand as he turns back around to go into the house. 

“No promises.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I KNOW I said this was gonna be just three chapter, but I really REALLY wanna make a little sequel chapter with Wilbur and Phil home and Phil going "ah what a nice peaceful morning. I'm gonna go hunt Dream down and beat the hell out of him, just to get the message extra across" 
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked the chapter. I tried my best :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my fuckign god this took hours i love it so much hmdmghsm i'm in TEARS
> 
> also hehe badass Phil go brrr

The morning starts early, for Phil. 

He blinks his eyes open to early morning sunlight coming through his windows, courtesy of him forgetting to close the curtains last night. There’s a slight chill sitting in the air, and as sleep slowly falls away from him, Phil rubs at his eyes and stares at the ceiling, content. 

It’s perfectly quiet, and Phil listens to the silence of the house, knowing that his boys are still perfectly sound asleep, or at the very least still in bed. It’s calming, reassuring, and while Phil could get another few hours of sleep, he still sits up to get ready for the day. He smiles out at the window, seeing light snowfall through the glass. 

It’s calm. 

His head is anything but. 

_ Today’s the day, it’s the day, it won’t be hard to find him, we know where he is, find him, find him, find him, blood, blood for- _

Phil hums to himself, stretching his arms up and his wings out, sighing quietly. It’s a calm morning, but his head is a startling contrast. Even when sleeping, it stays consistent, and Phil has dreams of blood on his clothes, and a sword in his hands. Sometimes, he has his sword to kill, sometimes it’s just his hands, wrapping around someone’s neck and strangling, until they stop moving, until they feel exactly the same pain Phil felt-

**_Dream_ ** . His voices almost say in unison, and Phil resists the urge to sigh again. 

“Today’s a good day.” Phil murmurs to himself. It could be better, he doesn’t say. He wants to go, he wants to go find that green bastard, and it wouldn’t be hard. The chatting in his head has already figured it out, and they urge on, encourage Phil to go after what he wants, because wouldn’t it be so  _ satisfying- _

It would, it would be. But right now, everything is calm. Nearly perfect. Not entirely, of course, this family is still cracked, still bruised, healing slowly. They’ll never be perfectly okay, not really, but they’re safe and happy, and that’s enough for Phil. 

Another day, he tells himself, and he can feel the utter disappointment and dramatic cries. He’ll get to Dream alright, he will. But right now things are good, and he should cherish it. 

_ Cherish it after you’ve made sure there will never be a threat again, just find him, go after him- _

Phil gets to his feet, yawning and shaking an itch out of his wing, going over to change and get ready for the day. The voices in his head cry in despair. Phil’s just amused. 

Maybe if Phil didn’t have all his kids safe, didn’t have Wilbur back, didn’t have Techno and Tommy co-existing somewhat peacefully, he would have bent to the voices yelling at him already. Maybe he if had so little, and so much anger, he would have the blood they want so bad. 

But he has a tight control over his head, and over his impulse decisions. Everything is alright, now, everything is good, and while he is still absolutely  _ pissed _ at Dream, for everything, he can wait a little more, even with the dramatic crying the voices are doing in his head. 

Pulling his hair back into a small ponytail and attaching a small shiny emerald to his ear, Phil thinks over how to start the morning, what he could cook for breakfast. He has a routine, at this point, always waking up rather early. Get ready, check on the boys, make food. From then on, it’s everyone else getting up from sleep, and the day is unpredictable from there on, because sometimes it’s just calm chores, and then sometimes it’s Tommy deciding that starting a food fight during breakfast is a  _ great _ idea. 

Turning over to a mirror by the corner of his room, Phil runs a hand down his shirt, smoothing out the weird way it’s folded, from being tucked in. He looks up, at his face, at himself, staring at the blue of his eyes, the blue of his clothes. 

He truly is in retirement. All of them are. It’s just peaceful, domestic life, and the most conflict they get is from Tommy, who always has a stroke of chaos in his heart, causing trouble here and there. Nothing too big, the last big argument that happened was Tommy insisting that taking things from Techno’s and Wilbur’s room without asking  _ wasn’t _ stealing. Wilbur called him a ‘fucking raccoon’. Techno had laughed, and agreed, and Tommy had started complaining appropriately. 

Retirement’s nice.

_ But you’re still just as deadly.  _ His chat insists, and Phil looks into his own eyes again, smiling. He is. Even with his guard down, even living a calm life like this, he knows he’s still as dangerous as before. He still holds that angry fire in his heart, and he knows how to use it. 

“Not today.” Phil whispers, and grins as his chat cries. “But soon.” They rejoice. 

He moves on to go out into the hallway, leaving his door open as he steps out, looking down to the other rooms. It’s quiet, and the wood makes a barely audible creak as Phil walks to Wilbur’s door first, steps light. 

Pushing the door open just the smallest bit, he only finds a small tuft of brown hair visible from under a pile of blankets, soft snoring sounding out through the room. Phil can’t help but linger, dragging his gaze over the items in the room, the worn journal on the desk, the guitar put to the side. The curtains are closed shut, and the room is dim, but Phil can see the light glow of a lantern sitting on a shelf by Wilbur’s bed. Techno had given that.

Even after all those weeks of recovery, back at the safehouse, back of helping Wilbur learn how to walk, how to remember, how to  _ be _ himself, sometimes Phil feels like he could lose Wilbur all over again. But seeing how he’s settled, how they all have, it helps. Doesn’t quiet the voices at all, but it helps. 

Wilbur’s better, these days. Regretful, sometimes full of sorrow, but better, eyes bright. He’s doing well, and while sometimes he still needs to rest often, and sometimes he wakes up in tears repeating apologies, he’s  _ Wilbur _ , and it’s good. 

Phil closes his eyes, taking in a slow, deep breath, and stepping back out into the hall, closing the door gently. 

He moves on to Techno’s room. 

Techno is thankfully sleeping  _ in _ his bed, sprawled out on the mattress like he fell and immediately passed out.

Phil’s found him sleeping leaned over his desk before, or not even sleeping at all, too many times, and those mornings, Phil comes into his room with crossed arms and a knowing smile, and Techno looks out his window with a hurried pace, then glares at the sunrise while telling Phil that he was busy, he was doing something, he was going to sleep, really-

Carefully tugging a blanket over Technoblade, Phil’s sure to keep his steps quiet and light, because he knows that Techno can be a light sleeper.

But he doesn’t have much to worry about. Even in sleep, Techno trusts him, and he doesn’t stir when Phil pulls a blanket over his chest.

Phil goes out into the hallway again, over to Tommy’s room, and he opens the door to find the curtains already pulled open, the early morning light already throughout the room. Tommy isn’t asleep, but it doesn’t like he’s gotten ready for the day either, he just sits on his bed, back leaning against the wall, knees pulled into his chest with a familiar compass in his hand. 

He holds it in his hand like he was afraid he might’ve lost it, and when Phil gives a light knock onto the door to tell he’s there, Tommy tries tucking it underneath the blankets around him, looking up with wide eyes. 

Phil smiles at him, and Tommy frowns, before sighing and taking the compass out again, holding it to his chest as he looks at Phil.

“You’re up early.” Phil notes, leaning against the doorway. 

“Woke up early.” Tommy shrugs, and lowers his eyes back down to the compass that points to l’manburg. “Couldn’t go back to sleep.”

L’manburg. 

From what Phil knows, that place has been busy, has been thriving, practically. 

The day Phil had gotten home with Wilbur, and they just started settling into the new rooms, the new house, he had written up a letter and sent it off to the president of l’manburg, for his eyes only. 

It was a small letter, and Phil didn’t put much detail, only giving a small message that Wilbur and Tommy were with him and Techno (alive, and safe), and that they were not to be made a part of any new wars that should start.

_ ‘If you want help in your new fights and arguments, don’t look to us for help. We’re done with it. L’manburg, Dream, all of it. Maybe you could visit sometime, but it will not be for war. _ ’ He remembers writing. 

He sent it off, then went on to settle into the house, letting Tommy give a tour as Techno made food in the kitchen, talking to Wilbur. 

A letter for Phil came back two weeks later, detailed and long, from Tubbo.

Tubbo had thought Tommy was dead. He had a funeral, he had mourned, been in grief while trying to pull his country together, trying to think of plans for peace. 

Apparently, Phil’s single letter had been a tipping point, and when he found out Tommy was alive,  _ safe _ , and all his pain had been for  _ nothing _ , he got on a mission. 

He had gone back to where Tommy had been in exile, and looked over the destruction, stared at the tower that went into the sky, and he asked questions.

_ ‘I asked Dream if he had visited Tommy, before. If he was there for him. _ ’ Phil remembers reading, remembers putting a hand over his mouth as he struggled to laugh over the satisfying feeling of some sort of victory. 

‘ _ I pressed him on for answers. He didn’t like to talk much about it, but it’s not that hard to figure out, isn’t it? He visited Tommy often. He pushed him, he hurt him, didn't he? I saw what Technoblade did to Dream’s hands. I don’t think Techno would have done something like that for no reason.’ _

Phil had laughed, in his room, held the letter in his hand. Tubbo’s words held so much anger to them, and he knows the anger was well used. 

‘ _ He pushed him, didn’t he? Dream nearly made Tommy lose himself. Thank you for telling me Tommy’s safe. You’ll be happy to know Dream’s been entirely banned and ran out from any towns as a whole. I started a hunt for his head. _ ’

Tubbo went on to tell of how Dream had been turned on, by every single last person, led by Tubbo, who had been absolutely pissed. 

‘ _ He tried sneaking back into l’manburg a week in after he was banned. I shot him in the leg with an arrow and told him to leave.’ _

Apparently, l’manburg is doing well, these days. Tubbo isn't a leader anymore, having stepped down, but it still does well. Tubbo’s sent a few more letters after that, but they’re mostly for Tommy, just updating on what’s going on, small interesting things in passing. Tommy sends letters back, and is always tackling either Wilbur or Techno when a new response has come. 

Neither him or Tubbo have said anything about visits, though. Tommy hasn’t asked to go to l’manburg, and Tubbo hasn’t asked to come to the house. 

Phil thinks maybe they’re both just waiting for the other to heal, for the other to ask. He’s not sure if he should give them a push or not. 

He brings himself out of those thoughts, focusing on Tommy again, who scoots over when Phil goes to sit beside him on the bed. 

“Compass still working?” Phil asks, Tommy nodding. 

“It’s fine.” Tommy says quietly, and he opens it up, staring at the needle pointing towards Tubbo, towards l’manburg. 

Phil hums, leaning against the wall by Tommy’s bed. “When did you wake up?”   
  


Tommy shrugs, making an unsure noise. 

They sit there in silence for a moment, and Phil waits, watching Tommy close the compass with a click, before opening it up again, staring at it like it might change. 

“Had a dream.” Tommy mutters.

“Want to talk about it?” Phil offers, and Tommy looks hesitant, before closing the compass again, opening it once more. 

He doesn’t say anything for a long while, and Phil turns his head to the rest of the room, to the cape that’s thrown over a chair by the desk, to a sword that hangs on the wall, shiny and sharp. For a second, Phil thinks about the first time Tommy and Techno had sparred for fun while him and Wilbur were here, remembers how Wilbur had cheered Tommy on. Tommy had still lost, of course, but he lasted considerably long. Techno has just seemed content with the fact they now had an audience. The first week here was a good week. 

“We’re safe here, right?” Tommy asks, and Phil turns his head to Tommy again. “I mean, I know we are, of course, but I-” He pauses. Clicks the compass shut again. 

“We’re safe.” Phil reassures, nodding. 

“Of course.” Tommy whispers, but he still doesn’t sound convinced. “I know.” 

“Everything’s okay.” Phil says softly, putting a hand onto Tommy’s shoulder. “We’ll be alright.”

“...but what if we won’t be?” Tommy asks, putting the compass down. “Do you think Dream is planning revenge?” 

Phil goes still, and with the way Tommy stares into the sheets with a conflicted face, and the way his shoulders are so wound up, Phil knows exactly what kind of dream Tommy must’ve had. 

Tommy goes on. “I know we’re safe here and all, and we can fight, but what’s stopping Dream from coming back and trying again? He could always just return, with leverage, with, with tnt, or something. What if Techno’s not  _ there _ next time? What if no one’s there, next time? I could be home alone at the wrong time and-”

“And even then, you will be safe.” Phil cuts Tommy off, Tommy looking up to him. “Because even if Dream tried anything, and tried taking you with him, we would come after him.” 

They’ve talked about it, before. Him, Techno and Wilbur, late nights, Tommy asleep in the next room. Dream’s a danger to them all, but even more so to Tommy, who’s Dream’s main pawn in his stupid game. There’s plans put in place, in case Dream ever tried anything. 

“Let’s say the worst happens.” Phil says, raising a hand up, reaching a wing out behind him and wrapping it around Tommy. “Let’s say, for some reason, we all leave the house, and you’re home alone. Dream comes by. He somehow finds a way to take you with him. The second we realize you’re gone, we will look for you.” 

“And you’ll fuck him up, too, I’m guessing.” Tommy says, huffing. 

“Oh, we’ll get everyone in on it.” Phil grins. “He tries anything, it’s a death sentence for him, because he won’t deal with just us, we will drag him to l’manburg as well. And that won't end well for him either, he’ll probably just get jumped the second he’s within the borders.”

Tommy shakes his head, laughing quietly. He looks back to the compass put to the side, sighing. “I’m not scared.” He says, and Phil isn’t sure if he’s saying it to Phil, or himself. “I could take him.” 

“You probably could, with Techno’s training.” Phil agrees. “Dream isn’t a threat to worry about anymore.”

“Yeah.” Tommy agrees. “He’s not that strong, anyway. He’s just a green bitch.” 

Phil snorts, Tommy grinning. 

“He sure is.” Phil huffs, letting a second of silence hang in the air before asking, “You want to help with breakfast?” 

Tommy considers it. “Sure.” 

Phil smiles, and tries to ignore the way his head has started screaming impossibly louder for Dream’s blood.

\---

The day passes by quietly, nothing big happening. They make breakfast just fine, Wilbur waking up with a bright ‘good morning’, Technoblade following half an hour later, looking half dead and face planting into Wilbur’s shoulder. 

Tommy drags Techno out to practice sparring. Wilbur watches from the porch with his guitar in his hands, quietly practicing new songs. Phil goes to chop wood, off to the side, just some extra firewood. 

Each time he swings the axe down, he finds himself wanting the wood to be someone’s head, instead. Each time he chops a log in half, he finds himself wanting it to be for him chopping into someone’s neck, finds himself wanting to hurt, finds his head insisting, and insisting, and-

_ Find him, find him, you said soon, but why not now? You have an axe and you have his location, make sure he’s never a threat again, just find- _

“Phil!” Someone yells, and Phil jolts, turning his head to where Techno and Tommy are standing in the snow. Wilbur stares at him from the porch. 

“You good?” Techno asks, Phil blinks, realizing he must’ve just been staring at the log rather than doing anything. 

“Ah-” Phil squeezes the handle of the axe, before nodding and waving it off. “Yeah, mate! I think I spaced off.” 

They move on. Techno and Tommy’s swords clang, Wilbur’s guitar eventually continues on with it’s soft strumming, and Phil brings down the axe once again, telling his head to be quiet. 

He still finds himself wishing it was Dream’s head. 

\---

Phil makes a bit of an impulse decision, at dinner. 

They’re sitting around the table, forks clinking against plates as they eat. The snowfall is light, outside, and the kitchen is just a bit cold. 

“I’m going to go find Dream tonight.” Phil says, and then puts a piece of steak into his mouth, ignoring the way Tommy’s choked on his food, and Techno’s dropped his fork into his mashed potatoes. 

“You’re going to  _ what _ ?!” Tommy coughs.

“I’m going to pay him a visit.” Phil says, and his tone doesn’t change, it holds quiet determination, and Tommy’s words die in his throat as he hears it. He feels a bit comforted, though, because from the way Phil sounds, he knows that Phil isn’t going to Dream to make a plan. “I want to talk with him.” Phil restates. 

“Do you even know where he is?” Techno asks, leaning forwards in his seat, eyes glancing to Wilbur, who raises his eyebrows in a silent communication to Techno. 

“I know.” Phil answers, and he almost wants to laugh at the way his boys all share glances, equally impressed and concerned. “I won’t be long. I’ll be back by the morning.” 

He can go far rather quickly, with his wings. It’s an advantage to travel. 

“When are you leaving?” Wilbur asks, poking at his food as he looks to Phil. 

“In a few hours.” 

Wilbur nods, and Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but just ends up shoving food into his mouth and kicks Techno’s foot instead. Techno kicks him back with narrowed eyes. Wilbur pulls his feet onto his chair as a whole fight breaks out under the table, Tommy swearing and complaining to Phil when Techno kicks his shin hard enough to bruise. 

Phil smiles.

\---

“I have something I want you to give to Dream.” Wilbur says later, lingering by the doorway as Phil prepares to go on his way. 

Phil secures the sword on his hip, then looks up to Will, who holds a letter in his hands. 

“What is it?” Phil asks, holding his hand out, Wilbur walking over, giving to him. 

“Just a message.” Wilbur shrugs, and Phil looks at the back of the envelope, neat handwriting saying ‘For Dream’. He raises his eyes back to Wilbur, who smiles back at him. “I know you can’t take me with you, and frankly, I don’t think I’d do well to travel at the moment.” 

“Have you been resting?” Phil asks, putting the letter away. 

“I have, I’m good. But I think my words on paper would hit harder than my fists, wouldn’t they?” 

Phil grins, Wilbur keeping the same smile, and Phil can see the restrained anger in his eyes. Simmered down, now, but Phil has no doubt he’s put it into the letter, somehow. 

“I’m just going for a talk, that’s all.” Phil says, and he knows he’s lying the second the words leave his mouth. He’s not going for just a talk. This will end up much more than just a ‘talk’.

“Mhm-hm.” Wilbur hums, turning back around to walk into the hallway. “Be sure to get a few  _ words _ in for me.” 

“I will.” Phil promises, and Wilbur’s steps sound out as he walks down the hall, to downstairs where Tommy and Techno are. 

\---

Phil leaves the house giving a hug to each of his boys, quietly putting Techno in charge, but saying that Tommy is in charge, just to see Tommy’s face light up and immediately hearing the way he yells for Wilbur and Techno to do his bidding. Wilbur immediately snaps back with something about not taking orders from a child. Tommy threatens to stab him. 

“Take care.” Phil says lightly, as they both argue, and Techno just gives a shrug.

The air is cold against Phil’s face as he flies up into the air, away from the house, and he follows the directions the voices give him, going towards where Dream resides. 

They know more than him, somehow, and Phil doesn’t bother thinking too hard about it, doesn’t bother questioning as to how the voices in his head sometimes just  _ know _ . 

He flies, far enough to where he’s out of the cold biome, and anticipation runs through him, his heart beating fast as he wonders how this will go. Maybe he won’t even find Dream. Maybe it’ll be just nothing. 

_ FIND HIM FIND HIM FIND HIM- _

Phil closes his eyes for a moment, flying downwards, flapping his wings against the air as his head yells for blood and for a good fight. Phil might kill Dream. Might not. Depends on how pathetic the man looks, when Phil finds him. 

Phil opens his eyes to see the ground far below him, a field of tall grass, stretching out for miles. There’s a small house, far off, and he can see it clearly, even in the dark of the night. There’s a small bit of smoke coming from the chimney, dim light from the windows, and Phil quickly makes his way along. 

He lands in front of the small house, and he sees it, he realizes it’s far too small to even qualify as a house. It’s more like a shack, and it’s plainly built, strong enough to be a shelter, but there’s no life, no personality added to the structure. 

Making slow steps to the door, Phil shifts his wings behind him, the voices practically speaking in unison now, a constant mantra of  _ FIND HIM _ .

He knows it as soon as he raises his hand to knock on the door. Dream’s in here. 

Phil knocks three times, leaning back on his heels as he waits, far enough away from the door so that if Dream responds with an immediate attack, he can counter it. 

There’s the sound of shuffling on the other side, the lights turning brighter, and Phil has a moment of thought of just slamming his foot into the door instead. 

It opens before he can do it, though, cracking open just the tiniest bit, and Phil is greeted with a familiar mask, hiding a face that he wants to punch. 

Soon, he promises. He wants to make a lasting impression. 

“Dream.” Phil smiles, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hello.”

Dream freezes as soon as he sees Phil, and he looks like he’s stopped breathing as well, staring through his mask at the man before him. 

“Phil.” He says, and he glances behind him for a moment, before looking back out. “What, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for a visit.” Phil says, and Dream laughs nervously. 

“Uh, I’m busy, it’s kinda late-” He goes to close the door. “I-I think maybe-” 

Phil takes quick steps forward, slamming a hand into the wood and pushing, making the door hit into Dream’s shoulder as he keeps it open. “I’m here for a visit. Let me in.” 

Dream hesitates, then opens the door, letting Phil walk inside, closing the door quietly behind him. Phil observes the home, seeing a bed tucked into the corner, chests beside it. There’s a fireplace to the left, and a small wooden table to the right, against the wall. 

Phil looks at Dream, observing how battered he looks. His mask is cracked, and his clothes are worn, faded. His hands…

Dream notices where Phil’s eyes stare, and he shoves them into his pockets with a huff, looking away. 

“Why are you here.” Dream says quickly, Phil smiling. 

“How are you, Dream?” Phil asks, walking more into the small house, looking around. “You seem to have settled down.”

Dream stands in place for a moment, before answering. “I’ve been fine. Would, would you like some tea?”

Phil looks at Dream with a surprised face. “Tea?”

“Uh- yeah.” Dream nods to the chest by the corner. “I have some, if you want.” 

“Alright.” Phil agrees. 

He sits at the table, while Dream busies himself, goes to grab cups and tea. The fireplace burns, and Phil stares at the flames as his chat is eerily quiet, waiting in suspense. 

The air is quiet as Dream makes the drink, and Phil just moves his gaze to his own hands, clasping his fingers together as he wonders what his boys are doing. They oughta be sleeping, but he knows they’ll be worrying for tonight, and they’ll be up doing something else instead. He hopes at least that they won’t be staying up until he gets back. 

There’s the clink of a cup on the table, and Phil raises his gaze to see Dream put a cup down in front of Phil, steam coming from the tea. It smells like citrus. 

Phil doesn’t stare at the cup, though, he instead looks at Dream's hands again, and there’s a small bit of satisfaction at seeing them, the damage Techno’s put. Technoblade has only told Phil of what he did, right before chucking Dream into a river far off, letting the cold current take him away so he could get back to Tommy. 

He’s missing fingers. Two fingers from each hand, pinky and ring finger, chopped off. Dream can still do things, can still hold onto the cup, but his hands still look wrong. 

Dream sits down across from Phil, his own cup sitting in his palms. He pushes his mask up to his nose, blows at the steam coming from his own cup, gives a nervous smile to Phil. 

“Uhm. Hope you like it.” He says, and Phil hums, holding the cup in his hands, leaning his elbows onto the table as he blows at the steam as well. “How have you been?” Dream asks, almost casually, like a switch has been flipped, and he’s no longer afraid, but rather speaking to an old friend. 

“We’ve been good.” Phil answers, Dream stilling. “Life has been calm.” 

“I’m, I’m glad.” Dream nods, taking a careful sip of his tea, giving a small smile. 

Phil goes to copy, raising the tea up to his lips, but he doesn’t take a sip, only breathes in the smell, feels the heat of the drink against his palms. 

“What was your plan, I wonder.” Phil murmurs, staring at the tea in front of his face, and he lowers it back down to the table. “What would you have gotten from killing me?”

Dream’s face pales, and he’s dead still, his hands gripping the cup in his hands tightly. “W-what?”

Phil smiles. Then he pushes the cup off the table, letting the poisoned tea splash across the floor. Dream doesn’t tear his gaze away from Phil. 

“If that had worked,” Phil continues, Dream swallowing. “You would have been signing your life away. You know you’d be killed.”

Dream frowns, and it turns into a scowl, bitter anger coming out behind the friendly facade that Phil saw through easily. 

“I’ve lost everything because of  _ him _ .” Dream says quietly, voice strained. “If I could take something from him, let him hurt-”

“Now which one of my boys are you talking about?” Phil asks, leaning against the table with a casual pose, but his eyes burn. 

“Tommy.” 

Phil laughs, turning his head to the side. “So your plan was to kill me? Let them grieve over me as some sort of revenge?”

“Grief can make people decide on stupid desicions. It might’ve given me a chance to finally have a leverage.” Dream says, and Phil laughs again, like he’s said a joke. 

“Always meddling, aren’t you, Dream?” Phil says, and his tone is sharp, a threat growing under it. “Always planning on something, always hurting. God, you’re annoying.”

“I’m-”

“It’s just so  _ annoying _ , living life with my family, all of us okay, all of us alright, and yet you’re  _ still _ doing something to try and hurt that, aren’t you?”

Dream goes to say something again, and Phil just leans forwards, keeps speaking. 

“I bet you still want Tommy back under your thumb. Still want Techno on your side of chaos. Still wishing Wilbur is staying dead, not making problems, hm?”

Dream pauses, processing Phil’s words, but also getting to his feet at the look in Phil’s eyes, at the way he’s gone from quietly furious to something else entirely, something deadly. 

The chair clatters to the ground as Dream stands up, and Phil can hear the way he takes a sharp breath in, fearful. Phil gets to his feet as well, sighing. 

Then he grabs the end of the table and tips it over harshly, the cup shattering on the ground as the wood hits the floor loudly. Dream takes several steps back, Phil leaning back on his heels as he rests a hand on the sword on his hip. 

He raises his eyes to Dream. 

“Run.” He says.

Dream doesn’t wait, jumping over the tipped over table and going for the door, slamming it open and making a break for outside. Phil watches him go with an amused smile, then turns his head to the still roaring fireplace. 

Might as well make use of that. 

His chat erupts in cheers as Phil lets a fire start in the center of Dream’s house, placing a torch onto the wood, letting it catch. A smell of smoke spreads as Phil turns his back to it, going over to the front door, walking outside. 

Stretching his wings out, Phil flies into the air, higher and higher, and he scans the grassy biome, spotting Dream a little far off, running as fast as he can. 

“Not fast enough.” Phil notes, and swoops down, towards Dream, taking his sword out and holding it tightly in his hand. 

He slams his foot into Dream’s side when he gets close enough to the ground, watches Dream fall over and hit the ground harshly, as Phil lands gently on his own two feet. 

Dream rolls over, going to sit up, and he screams when Phil stabs his sword right into his shoulder, right through, stabbing it into the ground, digging it far enough to pin him there. 

He kicks his legs, a choked cry coming from his throat as Phil pushes the sword even more, until he’s satisfied, then he lets go, leaning back, looking down at Dream, who cries out in pain, a hand around the blade in his shoulder, as if he’s going to be able to tug it out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I really am-” Dream cries, and maybe Phil would feel sorry if it weren’t for the fact that he’s replaying what he knows in his head. 

Tommy nearly  _ died _ , because of him. 

Nearly  _ died _ . From killing  _ himself _ , because of how low Dream pushed him. 

There’s so many other reasons for Phil being pissed, so many other reasons as to why he deserves this, but that’s the main one that sticks. That’s the main one that burns in his heart, and makes him feel not an ounce of sympathy for the man who’s crying in the grass, blood seeping into his shirt. 

“-I’m sorry!  _ Please _ , Phil-!” 

“You’re not sorry.” Phil says, kneeling down beside Dream, grabbing the mask that rests on his face. He pulls it off, gets to his feet and takes a few steps back as Dream reaches a hand out, trying to grab it back. 

Phil throws it onto the floor, out of Dream’s reach. 

“Give that back, give it to me! Don’t you fucking-!”

He stomps down on it until it’s shattered into pieces. Phil raises his eyes to Dream, who has nothing to hide the way tears are streaming down his face, fear written in his expression. 

Phil just smiles. 

“You know, I was thinking of killing you.” Phil says casually, Dream letting out a sob of pain as he attempts to get the sword out. “But you living like this is so much more better.” 

“What do you-” Dream cries, letting out a scream of frustration, anger and pain, kicking his legs, before talking again. “What do you FUCKING MEAN?! You’re a psychopath, you’re  _ sick- _ !”

“You’re nothing.” Phil says, and Dream looks at him with wide eyes, angry and scared. “Living like this, in the middle of nowhere, with nowhere to go, no more power, it’s a bit pathetic. It’s perfect.” 

“Let me go, right now-”

“You have quite literally nothing-”

“Or else, I fucking swear-!”

“What do you think you’ll do?!” Phil snaps, Dream going quiet, another cry coming from him. Phil walks over again, grabs the hilt of the sword, digs it in as Dream screams. “I want you to live through this. I want for you to live everyday with your failure of complete control like you so desperately wanted. Each time you look at your hands, I want you to remember that you cannot do  _ anything _ . You have  _ no _ power. You have  _ no _ control. You ever try hurting anyone again,  _ especially _ my sons, I will make you fucking wish you were dead.” 

Dream just looks up at him with terrified eyes, hands trembling from where they hover by where he’s been stabbed, blood soaking his shirt. 

“You’ll live, though.” Phil says quietly. “You will live a miserable, lonely existence for the rest of your life. Understand?”

“I understand.” Dream says, voice strained, and Phil nods. He pulls the sword out, Dream screaming again, holding a hand to the bleeding wound. 

Phil takes a few steps back, resting the sword onto the ground, resting his hands onto the top of the handle as he looks behind him, where there’s a big, roaring fire, consuming Dream’s house. 

Dream pushes himself to his knees, shaking and crying, looking at his shattered mask with gritted teeth. 

“Oh.” Phil reaches into his shirt, pulling out Wilbur’s letter. “This is from Wilbur.” 

Dream looks up with shock, then gets kicked across the face by Phil, landing in the grass with a groan. Then Phil holds out the letter. Dream takes it. 

Phil smiles, looking at Dream push himself to his knees again, crying in pain and defeat. He’s satisfied. His head is comfortably quiet enough. 

“That’s all.” Phil nods, stretching out his wings, putting his sword away. “Goodbye.” 

He flies, Dream lifting his head and watching him go with a bitter look. He holds the letter in his hand with a confused and angry expression, raises his eyes to the burning light that was his shelter. 

Stumbling to his feet, Dream gets up with pure stubbornness, walking over to the fire. It takes forever for his legs to get him close enough, but he eventually does, and when he collapses in front of his house, there’s the hint of sunrise in the sky. 

Dream fumbles with the letter, trying to not get blood stains all over it. He opens it up. 

‘ _ Dear Dream, _

_ I was going to make this long as fuck, to be honest, poke fun at you, make a long list of everything you’ve ever lost, but I don’t have the time for that kind of nonsense, and really, you’re not worth my time.  _

_ Here’s an update for you though: Me and Tommy are doing great. Alive and well. Hope that annoys the hell out of you.  _

_ May you sit in the ashes of your failure, you fucking bastard, but also, _

_ YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  _

_ SUCK IT GREEN BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY _

_ -Wilbur _ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go oh my fuckn GOD, why did that take so long, go cry in the comment section for me, it's nearly 3 am and yet i've made this work of art, I LOVE IT SO MUCH
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. 
> 
> SUCK IT GREEN BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

**Author's Note:**

> We love to see it, truly-
> 
> This fic is inspired from mioxart's drawing of Techno beating the crap outta Dream!!!
> 
> Check her out on insta @mioxart, or on Twitter @ItsMiox_ 
> 
> Her art is so cool :D give her love, her drawing is the reason this fic exists
> 
> But ye! Thanks for reading!
> 
> (If you got fanart or something, you can @ me with the username "sircantus" on either insta, twitter, or tumblr. I would love to see it)


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